


Keeping Secrets

by amiablecrow



Category: Dishonored (Video Games)
Genre: Gen, Kinda, Low Chaos (Dishonored), Mother-Daughter Relationship, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, emily kaldwin needs a hug, low-to-medium chaos, making the best of a dishonored situation, minor Dishonored 2 spoilers, the heart needs a hug
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-13
Updated: 2016-12-13
Packaged: 2018-09-08 07:50:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 591
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8836399
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amiablecrow/pseuds/amiablecrow
Summary: Sometimes, it's really hard not to kill these people.





	

The guard turns, but she's already moving. A jab to the throat and he's gasping, helpless as she grabs him by the shoulder and wraps an arm around his neck. He kicks, tries to cry out for help, but barely a sound passes his lips.

_Apply most of the pressure here,_ her father would say, drawing lines against his own neck on two sides.  _Cut off the blood flow to the head and your opponent will be unconscious in seconds._

He is. 

Quickly, she pulls out her kit, filling a syringe with the efficiency of someone who's been doing this, _by the void_ , doing this far too much...

The man is already starting to stir as she finishes cutting through the coat of his jacket and flicks his inner elbow with a nail to find a vein. The injector is already in her other hand, and she's ruthlessly efficient when it comes to applying the sleep serum that -- through the continued grace and harassment of Sokolov and Hypatia -- has meant she's had to slice fewer throats than she did when she first escaped from Dunwall Tower.

She drops the injector and has her knife to the guard's neck before he has the chance to gather his wits. 

And she feels the Heart beating against her inner jacket pocket.

" _He once chased a beggar girl across Karnaca for hours,"_ her mother's voice whispers in its detached way.

Emily holds her breath as the guard's eyes finally focus on her properly. He's terrified, but in a moment...

" _The child fell from a rooftop and broke her neck."_

She presses just a little too hard with the sharp blade. A drop of blood wells up from the wound, traces a thin line down his neck.

" _He left the body to rot."_

She scrambles away from the now-unconscious man, fights the urge to vomit as she wipes down her blade on the man's bright red uniform.

These people are the ones that she allows to protect her Empire, her citizens. The fact that she's not currently the one on the throne doesn't make her feel less responsible for what they've done. Are doing. Will keep doing if they're not stopped.

***

"I need something else," She tells Sokolov, handing him a piece of parchment.

***

From the rooftops she can study patrol patterns, learn the best way to get to her target with as little violence as possible.

She can imagine that she isn't holding a clockwork heart. She's safe in the arms of her mother, looking down from a balcony and speculating about the lives of those below, wondering about their deepest, darkest secrets.

_"He does his job,"_ says the Heart, and Emily can pretend that the inflection is warm, that her mother is speaking with mischief in her voice.  _"He doesn't want anyone to know that he's not from a good family, but he protects the people when he can."_

Emily resolves to avoid this guard, if she can.

She twirls a brush in her other hand. It has a cap over the brush and a tank of ink in place of a handle. She should probably be more careful with it -- the ink will stain for weeks if she gets it on her skin.

She points the brush at another guard, one whose path takes him past an abandoned, shadowy storefront.

The next morning, that particular guard will wake up in an empty dumpster. He won't realize until later that his most carefully kept, cruelest secret is written across his face in crimson ink.


End file.
